


taste of sunlight

by MoveTheUniverse



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bodhi Rook Lives, Deepthroating, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Fluff and Smut, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Bodhi Rook, luke skywalker is adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 04:47:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17400311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoveTheUniverse/pseuds/MoveTheUniverse
Summary: A peek into an average day in the life of Bodhi and Luke, with lots of warm feelings, hot kisses, and... terrible food.Based on the Romantic/Fluff Sentence Starters Prompt: “I’m not much of a chef, but I really hope you like this.”





	taste of sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ANTchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANTchan/gifts).



Bodhi tugs off his glove carefully, not wanting to get oil onto the buttons of the keypad. His fingers skim over the code, still amazed he has this, he has a home, a door that locks (nothing in the Empire ever locked) and… a lover to come home to. That last thing is truly the most surprising, and the brightest.

The door whooshes open, and Bodhi is greeted with not only the sights of what he’s coming to call home, but scents that smell… if not like home, then certainly homey. Warm spices, with the bright sharp sweetness of… “Is that honey?”

“Is that what?” Luke sticks his head around the corner of the small kitchenette. He’s wearing an apron over an old uniform, and there’s flour on his nose. Then, he realizes exactly what Bodhi had meant, and blushes, horribly. “Oh. I mean. Um. Yes, it is.”

Bodhi’s careful to take off his boots, coat, and other glove first. He’d been raised to not track sand into a home, much like Luke, and really, the end result is the neatest apartment in the whole base. The whole procedure, though, takes long enough for Luke to keep stammering through various apologies. Bodhi snags him by his apron string and pulls him in for a kiss. Their lips brush, and he tastes whatever Luke must have just sampled as he cooked. It’s sweet, a little spicy, and utterly delightful. “I’m glad it’s honey,” and then, because nothing makes Bodhi feel better than Luke’s smile, he adds, “honey.”

“Did you… did you just call me honey?” 

“Maybe.” Bodhi replies. He had, of course, but it’s nice letting Luke stay at least a little flustered. Force knows Bodhi isn’t the type to be the blushy one. When he stammers, it’s because the nightmares, the constant ebbing waves of pain, have overtaken whatever thoughts he’d had. When his face heats, it’s from the burn of remembering some embarrassing thing he’s blurted out. But when he smiles, it’s for Luke.

“Is that… is that my nickname now?”

“Maybe.” Bodhi kisses his cheek. “Honey.”

Also, such bright, pink-cheeked blushing on Luke, who is otherwise so brave, so bold, is a delight to see. Looking back, he should have seen the blush for the clue it had been, when it first started occurring. Really, the fact Bodhi hadn’t thought anything of the time Luke had blushed his way through calling a hydrospanner six different tool names instead of the proper one when Bodhi had asked for it, should have been a clue as large as Yavin itself. If that hadn’t given it away, then Luke dropping said hydrospanner at least four times should have been.

Then again, Bodhi had spent a good deal of their first forays into friendship hidden from view, tucked under Luke’s X-Wing, repairing and improving all the delicate machinery-fried-by-the-Empire’s-blasters there. Meanwhile, Luke, with his thoughtful words and gentle touches, had been doing the same thing to Bodhi’s own, equally-fried, equally-delicate emotions. 

But he couldn't stay hidden in the role of mechanic forever, not with the way both of their groups of friends pushed them together. Bodhi realized it long before Luke did. But maybe that’s because it was far more unusual for Cassian to “accidentally” invite Luke and Bodhi to a dinner he cooked and then had a mission report to write, which meant the two ate alone without the chef, rather than Han “accidentally” locking Bodhi and Luke in the Falcon.

Now, they’re together, which is both baffling and brilliant, in all the strange ways that Bodhi’s life has become. He never expected any of this. The Rebellion, the friendship, the love. He knows enough to know all of it could vanish again one day, so he treasures each moment. He’s smiling at that thought when Luke says, “Let me get dinner.”

Luke bounds over to the kitchen and returns with a plate bearing one roughly pastry-resembling object. If a pastry could be both burnt and raw dough at the same time, a culinary paradox that leaves him decidedly a little less hungry.

“I sort of made up a recipe,” Luke says, “but I was thinking of you the whole time.”

Perhaps, Bodhi thinks, maybe Luke should have been thinking a little more about the task at hand. But he says, “it looks incredible.” Incredible is a good word. Not a lie, because terrible things can be incredible too.

Luke beams. “I’m not much of a chef, but… I really hope you like this.”

Bodhi lifts the object. It’s heavy in his hand, and sticky. He takes a bite. Luke watches him, his eyes bluer than any sky Bodhi knows. Bodhi chews, and chews, and… and now he’s chewed too much and there’s panic spreading over Luke’s face.

He swallows.

“Good?” Luke asks.

Bodhi isn’t good at lying, especially not to a Jedi, and most especially not to a Jedi he’s more than a little in love with. But he… he can’t bear any chance Luke’s hopeful smile will disappear, not when it’s the one hope Bodhi cherishes above all other.

So, he does something he’s had a chance to get better at, since becoming a Rebel. Bodhi improvises. He hooks a finger in the belt loop of Luke’s uniform and pulls him closer. Luke stammers, for only one second, before their lips meet. The soaring joy of being wanted, of being safe, that always blooms somewhere deep underneath his ribs when they kiss, occurs once more, a feeling even better than flying.

The kiss is bright, and even sweeter than usual, with the little bit of honey and spice remaining on their lips. It’s the sort of kiss, the sort of touch, even the sort of moment, Bodhi never knew he could expect. 

Then, Bodhi takes off Luke’s apron, his fingers untying it while he deepens the kiss, showing Luke exactly the sort of distraction he has in mind. He just hopes it’s enough for both of them to forget about that burned-doughy-thing that Luke had made.

Bodhi keeps kissing, down Luke’s neck, his hands making short work of the closures for the jump suit. Then, his fingers brush over warm skin, and Luke lets out a little sigh of delight. Which, Bodhi thinks, is much better than him asking about the dinner. 

Bodhi sits back in the chair, keeping his hand on Luke’s hip, holding him close. “Why did you sit?” Luke asks.

Bodhi just chuckles as he finishes opening Luke’s jumpsuit. His other hand brushes over Luke’s rapidly hardening cock, still confined by the fabric. Luke holds his breath. Bodhi plants one careful kiss to the curve of Luke’s hipbone, and then, a second, a third, following the line down toward his prize. 

Only when Bodhi’s free hand has wrapped around Luke’s base, does he speak, in a soft, amazed, tone. “Oh!”

“Something wrong?” Bodhi freezes, instantly ready to correct or change.

“No, no! Everything’s great! Wow. Great. You’re great.” Luke’s fingers run through Bodhi’s dark hair, as gentle as raindrops. One day, he thinks, he’ll teach Luke how good a little hairpulling can feel. “You know you’re great right?”

Bodhi just chuckles. “You make me feel great.”

“I… I do?” Luke asks, and it’s a sweet enough tone that Bodhi almost wishes he wasn’t sitting down, so he could kiss that gentle smile that always accompanied that tone.

“Mm,” he agrees, deciding that’s quite enough talking, and there’s something his mouth would rather do. Carefully, he licks from base to---

“Ohh! That’s why you’re sitting. You _planned_ on giving me head.”

“What… why else would…”

“You might have been tired?” 

Now Bodhi’s laughing, and Luke is too, and really the whole thing is too sweet to not enjoy. Sweeter than any food, any dessert he can remember. He does keep his hand moving gently over Luke’s cock, twisting his palm over the tip before working his way back up to Luke’s base. He’s already learned not to pull any of his favorite tricks this early on in the game, because Luke comes… well, with the same amount of abundant enthusiasm he does everything else.

Bodhi’s heard of certain… additional items that could delay one’s pleasure, and he’s promised himself the first time he and Luke go offworld together, they’ll look for one. He’s thinking of that future moment as he bends his head to plant another kiss to the tip.

“Hey,” Luke begins.

“Mm?” His mouth is now a little full.

“What were you just thinking about? You had the nicest smile.”

He pauses, pulls his mouth away. “Tell you after.” 

“Fi---” Luke starts. Bodhi moves forward, pulling Luke’s cock deeper into his mouth, his tongue pressing hard against the underside, and Luke’s tone changes dramatically. “Fiiiiiiiiine,” he whimpers.

Bodhi loves that sound. Loves making the most powerful, the most heroic of all the pilots beg him. Loves the soft whimpering cries that escape Luke’s sweet mouth, and most of all, loves the way Luke says his name.

“Please. Please, Bodhi, please,” Luke gasps, as Bodhi’s free hand finds his sack, plays gently over it, cupping them in his palm, before squeezing the absolute smallest bit. It’s just enough pain mixed with pleasure for Luke to gasp out, shallowly.

His hand goes to Bodhi’s shoulder, rocking Bodhi forward in time with his thrusts. Luke only starts to fuck his mouth when he’s close, so Bodhi slows down. Pulls back, the cock sliding out of his mouth with a gentle noise. He licks his lips while glancing up into Luke’s flushed face.

“Kriff, I want to kiss you right now,” Luke says.

Bodhi just lowers his gaze again, returning to his work. His tongue flicks hard over Luke’s tip, the salty taste more delicious than… well, he’s not going to think about that food right now, and hopefully, neither is Luke. 

Luke lets out a little sigh, and another whispered plea. “Bodhi…”

His lovers back back in the life he doesn’t think about, had never called him by name. Luke had asked him once what turned him on, what Luke could do to please him, and Bodhi had simply replied, “love me for me.” It proved true every day. The fact Luke loved him, that Luke cherished every one of his quirks and wanted to help heal every wound, was more than enough to make Bodhi wild with desire for him. It didn’t matter that Luke was unpracticed, was clumsy and a little bad at planning, Luke _cared._

And that, Bodhi had learned, was the sexiest thing in the galaxy.

So he gives back the love he feels with his own devotion in a hundred varied ways, this one not the least of them. He’s there for Luke when he cries for the family he’s lost, when he’s scared of the destiny he doesn’t fully understand, when he’s… well, when he’s a bit lost in the kitchen or the role of a soldier in general. Bodhi leads Luke, sometimes, teaching him the pleasures of a partner as much as the way to fold a uniform to reduce time-to-dress in the morning. Other times, Luke is the leader, when he pulls Bodhi out for a early morning run in the forest, the two of them racing without a care in the world, or when he takes Bodhi’s hand in front of all of Rogue Squadron. Because Luke loves like the sun, bright, and bold, and impossible to contain.

In this moment, that sunlight is shone in every soft thrust of Luke’s hips, in his breathless sighs, in his promises to be good, so good for Bodhi… as if he could be anything else.

Bodhi sucks harder, finally taking him deep again, deep enough a few tears well in the corners of his eyes, clinging to long eyelashes like gems. Luke reaches out, his hand trembling with the want racing through his whole body, to brush one tear away. He’s had to reassure him, earlier, it’s a biological response, that Bodhi is very much in the opposite of pain when he’s giving head, and Bodhi is glad to see Luke now believes him. “You are so beautiful,” he says. “May… may I?”

Bodhi hums in agreement, more than ready. Luke’s hands are on Bodhi’s shoulders in the next moment, pulling him close, rocking himself as deep as he can into Bodhi’s mouth. A moment later, he shatters.

He’s careful to drink every last drop, to tenderly move back, to fasten Luke’s the lower half of Luke’s jumpsuit because he always gets a little embarrassed after the fact. Then, Bodhi stands, or tries to stand, which is made a little more clumsy by Luke’s leaning forward, pulling him up, kissing him wildly. Bodhi kisses back, pressing against him so Luke knows how turned on he is by the work. 

“Bed?” Bodhi suggests.

“Yeah…” Luke’s voice is blissfully dazed, and the two hold hands as they stumble over onto the bed. Clothes are removed with laughter and kissing. 

A moment later, Luke is bent over Bodhi, and Bodhi’s hand is tangled in that sunlight hair. “GO on,” Bodhi urges. “Have a taste.”

Luke is all too happy to oblige, dipping his head down to wrap his lips around Bodhi’s tip. He sucks hard enough that Bodhi’s hips buck. “Fuck,’ he calls out, stopping himself from yelling it at the last moment. His word choices are always a little coarser than Luke’s, but his hands are more callused too, his body more damaged, his past darker.

He is full of shadows, of guilt and pain and loss, but Luke’s sunlight fills every bit of his future plans, illuminates all the hopes he’s let hid in the darkness of the past, and melts his fears. Even if he’s still learning a bit when it comes to giving head. “Gentle, gentle,” Bodhi whispers, stroking Luke’s neck. And when Luke slows down, he rewards him with praise. “Lovely. So good. You’re wonderful, Luke. You’re going to make me come.”

And Luke will, especially with the way he’s now wrapping his hand around Bodhi’s base. The pressure is more than enough to compensate for any cluminess. 

Luke’s mouth is warm, and his tongue, when it swirls around him, is downright incredible. “Ah!” Bodhi sighs. “Wonderful. Shall I tell you what made me smile?” 

Luke nods his head, and does something positively brilliant with the pressure of his lips against his shaft. Bodhi bucks again, his breath catching so that his words are more of a rasp, “I was thinking… when we both have leave…” 

“Mmm?” Luke hums, looking up at him, and his eyes are so blue, so bright that Bodhi is nearly undone. His free hand tightens around a handful of blanket to fight the urge.

“On leave we can find a nice spot, a city with good… shops,” words are becoming a little more difficult, “and then, we’ll curl up in a hotel and spend three days like this.”

Luke lifts his head, moving up to kiss Bodhi’s mouth. “Yes,” he whispers, “Yes.” His hand strokes Bodhi’s cock, pulling from his base to the tip with just the right pressure. “Yes, just like this.”

They kiss again, deeply, Luke’s hand still working him. The future feels like that kiss, wild and passionate, full of so much more than Bodhi had ever known to expect. Luke’s hand is so wonderful, pumping him hard, hard enough… “I could come,” he whispers.

“From just my hand?” Luke asks.

“From you, you nerf-herder,” he teases, kisses Luke’s neck. Feels the goosebumps race over Luke’s skin. “From all of your perfect kisses.”

“No one’s perfect.” Luke’s blush travels all the way to his collarbone.

No. No one was. But moments could be, Bodhi thinks, as Luke moves once more, down to Bodhi’s core, to take him in his mouth again. He puts Bodhi’s hand back on the top of his head, their signal for permission for Bodhi to be a little rougher. To push down, and rock his hips up, challenging Luke to take more of him.

Doing so, feeling Luke moan around him, is more than enough to send him over the edge. His fingers twist around golden strands of hair as he comes with a silent cry, his head falling back on the pillow.

Afterward, they kiss, long and slow. Luke pulls the blankets around them, since he’s the one who’s always cold. The kisses melt into talking, which melts back into kissing, and then a little fucking. By the end of the night, both of them are utterly worn out and very happy.

“That food’s probably stale now,” Luke muses.

“What a shame,” Bodhi tries to hide his smile as he presses one more kiss to his shoulder. Soon, he’ll slip out of bed and fetch them some snacks, but for right now, he’s happy to enjoy basking in the afterglow. “Good thing you were so tasty, honey.”

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Bright_Elen for beta-ing, and the wonderful RogueOne server for all the sprints.  
> ANTchan I hope this brightens your day! You are always such a positive force in our fandom, an excellent writer, and a great person.


End file.
